


Sunset and Rose

by Wolkemesser



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Flash Fic, Ixalan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 13:18:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15195596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolkemesser/pseuds/Wolkemesser
Summary: A Sun Empire warrior finds herself in the clutches of the legion of dusk, about to be subjected to a horrific ritual! To what dastardly end have these vampires taken her?A Flash Fic based on a WotC prompt!





	Sunset and Rose

The gold-clad corpses dragged Tactli into the temple, the sun fading away rapidly at their backs. Tactli’s arms were bruised, her legs too battered to stand. Still, she thrashed against their pull. Around her there was only darkness, and the steady scrapping of her greaves on the dirt-crusted stone.

And ahead, a strange chant that felt like centipedes crawling into her ears.

They arrived at a doorway, illuminated by torchlight. A single robed vampire stood guard.

“An offering!”

The vampire to Tactli’s left shoved her forward. The other vampire strode to the hooded one (a priest?) and knelt.

“Monsignor, Is it true? The Dusk Rose, is she..?”

“It is the tomb, my child, we have found it at last.” The priest was looking right at Tactli like a farmer would eye a prize pitzotl. “Though the holy one has not yet appeared to us. Your sacrifice is most welcome.”

Tactli grunted and thrashed again.

“Enough.”

The priest waved a hand, and Tactli’s body stiffened. She felt something…crawling? Crawling through her arms and legs and into her body. She stretched and stood, against her will. Against the pained protests of every muscle in her body.

The priest beckoned “Let us escort her to the bishops.”

Slowly, agonizingly, the sensation under Tactli’s skin forced her forward toward the doorway. It was something beneath her muscles-

_-my blood._

Tactli’s stomach turned…

…and nearly emptied itself as they entered the next chamber.

There were others here. Other warriors of the Sun Empire. River heralds. A siren. All hanging limp from golden manacles along the walls of a massive tomb. Golden needles pierced their wrists, dripping blood into stone gutters along the walls.

The vampires dragged Tactli to the center of the room. The tomb was filled with hooded priests. Some held staffs of gold. One swung a smoking censer, filling the room with the scent of roses and offal.

One of the priests approached her, bearing an armful of those golden needles. Another priest lay hands on her and spoke.

“Wretched warrior of the blasphemously-named ‘sun empire,’ may your sins drain away with your blood. May you find redemption in service to our rose…”

Tactli strained to run. Her muscles would not obey her. _Her blood would not obey her._ It flowed through her and urged her to stand still. To hold her arm out to the priests.

“…and may you one day rise in service to the true sun of Torrezon.”

The priest thrust a needle into Tactli’s wrist. She screamed. The sound was muffled behind her clenched jaw, held fast by blood magic.

“Accept our unworthy gift, oh pious and revered ancestor! Accept this offering of blood and rise, renewed in vigor that you may lead us as we fulfill your holy wishes!”

Another needle pierced Tactli’s arm. A spurt of blood blossomed from the puncture, and ran along the needle’s length. Tactli forced her eyes, the last bit of herself she still had mastery over, to stare the priest in the eye.

By Kinjalli, she would not die like a shamed dog.

“And _what_ precisely is it my foolish children think that I wish for?”

The voice was soft, but every other sound in the temple died away in its wake. Tactli felt the hold upon her blood loosen, and she turned.

She could only gape silently at this new speaker. Golden armor. Immaculate garments. She was small, but she _glowed_. Glowed like the sun.

Two other vampires flanked this new one. One was on her knees, her ear firmly gripped between the glowing woman’s thumb and forefinger. The other stood with arms outstretched, nearly crying with joy.

“Brothers! Sisters! Our Rose has returned!”

“Saint Elenda!” Half the vampires fell to their knees. The rest could only gape.

_Elenda…_

Tactli’s brow creased.

_The vampire superstition…? That…that cannot be…_

The glowing vampire, Elenda, looked at the tomb walls and frowned.

“Cut them down.”

“D-Dusk Rose, they were an offering-”

“Cut. Them. Down.”

Tactli’s veins went slack, and she felt the grip on her blood fall away. She slumped, and the needle ripped the underside of her arm as the priest holding it rushed to join the others in a scramble for the walls.

Tactli felt something warm rush over her palm. Heard it splatter on the floor.

Blood.

There was too much. Far too much.

None of the vampires seemed to notice.

“Dear child.”

Elenda was walking toward Tactli. She was kneeling at Tactli’s side, putting her arms under Tactli’s back and legs, lifting her from the temple floor. Dark red tears were welling in the vampire’s eyes.

“Forgive me, warrior of the sun.” Elenda’s eyes glowed; sunrises on a bloody horizon. “As my children have wronged you, so too have I done wrong.”

Tactli could only gape. The last of the feeling in her limbs was fading, and the edges of her vision had gone dark.

“Do you wish to live, child?”

Tactli felt her lips quiver.

_A warrior of Kinjalli ought not to beg._

“Our path is a painful one, but if you wish it, you may walk beside me.”

A whimper escaped between Tactli’s lips.

Elenda’s face was near. Then it was out of sight, and a scented breeze brushed Tactli’s neck. There was a sharp pain.

Then darkness.

Blessed darkness.

***

The wind whipped Tactli’s hair as thin green line of Ixalan sank over the horizon. The faint tang of salt teased her lips. It wasn’t blood, but the taste of it slaked her thirst by degrees. A few yards below, the waves crashed and foamed.

“Tactli?”

Elenda had turned back. The Dusk Rose’s footsteps were silent as the breeze on the deck of the cathedral galleon. Ahead, skymarchers floated before the ship, proceeding grimly but obediently toward distant Torrezon.

Tactli gazed at the spot where Ixalan had disappeared, then at Elenda.

“Forgive me, I…I have never been so far from home.”

Elenda smiled, and extended a hand.

“My child, there is nothing to forgive.”

 

 

 

_“Sunset and Rose” is unofficial Fan Content permitted under the Fan Content Policy. Not approved/endorsed by Wizards. Portions of the materials used are property of Wizards of the Coast. ©Wizards of the Coast LLC._


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